


Jericho Reborn (And a Past Revived)

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Legislature Markus and his partner Simon have been living together for roughly a year. Their domestic lives have brought the couple a sense of comfort; the days of the revolution that brought a deep blue bloodshed long behind them. However, when the original Jericho ship is planned to be destroyed, the two are thrown once more into the battleground with their old allies as their line of defense.





	Jericho Reborn (And a Past Revived)

“Do you need basil?” Markus questioned. holding a plastic container of the herb. Simon looked up from his reusable tote bag assortments of vegetables and meats teeming to the brim. The PL600 glanced at the green plant and nodded once he realized he had required it.

“Yes, Markus. I must’ve forgotten to get it.” Simon calmly answered, checking the grocery list in his hands. The two were compiling foods that Simon could use to prepare dinner for the night. They were both working so hard in their respective fields that an unintentional space had emerged between them. Simon had brought up the idea one night whilst Markus was editing an email about the new pro-android law; Jericho.

“Don’t forget anything too important, now.” Markus joked, receiving a light laugh from Simon. He checked the expiration date on the plastic-wrapped set of steaks before concluding he had everything he needed to provide a meal. They left the grocery store together, sunglasses kept on their faces so as to not attract attention. As they entered their shared Prius, the warmth of silence enveloped them. Markus preferred these shared moments of love when the paparazzi and news headlines about an android Legislature ceased to be and only he and Simon populated the world.

  
“Welcome back home, Markus Manfred.” Carl’s voice spoke up, a replacement to the female tone that usually presided the welcoming. Markus had changed the settings a month after Carl died, a way to preserve his memory that Simon found endearing. He had met Carl three weeks before his death, the elder painter bound to a wheelchair had eaten lunch with him and told him that if Markus truly loved him then he should make it a habit to call him Dad.

Markus came into the mansion, clutching the grocery bags as synthetic birds chirped amongst him, withdrawn from their cage. Simon learned various bird calls to alert the pets of his presence since even his own pacifist personality could not distract from the volume of the chirps. As he projected a shrill, the animals immediately drifted downwards and landed onto a nearby desk, shushing themselves.

“Leo! We’re home!” Markus called out, his right hand cupped near his mouth. Leo had been living with the couple ever since Carl passed, helping with chores around the house while going through his rehabilitation. Leo had gotten more mature, talking with Simon respectfully and only occasionally making a joke that was rooted with good nature. Leo walked down the staircase, steps rhythmically beating. He was holding a textbook from his community college.

“‘Sup Simon. Need help with those?” Leo gestured towards the bags, words muffled by the pencil in his mouth. Simon nodded, his hands smaller than Markus’ yet much more preoccupied. Leo took some of his tote bags, heading for the kitchen. Markus followed closely behind him, leaving Simon to turn off the birds for the night.

“Leo, do you mind not coming downstairs, just for tonight? Simon and I are doing something special.” Markus said in a hushed tone, eyes dilated as he anticipated Leo’s answer.

“Sure. Don’t get too loud, though. I need to study for my exams tomorrow.” Leo replied, clapping Markus on the shoulder as he left the kitchen, leaving the android is a shocked state. Whilst the idea was definitely agreeable, the night wasn’t meant for that type of intimacy.

Simon came into the kitchen soon afterward, confirming the birds would remain offline for the entirety of the dinner. Markus left Simon to his own devices, allowing himself a moment to watch the television in the living room. Channel 16 flashed actively and Michael Webb wasted no time in talking about how Markus was the next step in android equality or a future in which humans became obsolete. Markus frowned at the news, finding himself infuriated in his own house.

“Markus,” Simon’s voice emerged, “please, switch to KNC news. I much prefer Rosanna Cartland over all of Channel 16. At least she does her research.” Markus’ lips twitched upwards, grateful that he had a husband who was such a kind and rather blunt man. He switched the channel, leaving the couch to instead clean his surroundings.

Markus stacked Shakespearean books of love and youth atop one another and drawing the curtains. He cleared the chess board of its pieces, laying the king and queen to rest together. He closed the door that revealed Carl’s painting room, not quite ready to discuss the death beyond a few sentences. He grabbed the birdcage that lain on the piano case and placed the two peaceful avians within it, LEDs grey with the mimic of slumber. Chirping without a break, speaking into oblivion. The action seemed to tire the androids out; Markus could relate with memories of his more prideful, younger self. Fist held high and song sung low.

 _“--and in other news; the boat labeled Jericho, used by our own Legislature just a year ago, is now being scrapped. While President Warren explains it is solely for environmental purposes, various androids have pleaded differently.”_ Markus closed the piano, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He called Simon, certain he would find the subject interesting. Suddenly, the screen showed North, a microphone leaned in her direction.

 _“Jericho was a home to many. But President Warren is so quick to judge us androids that even a symbol of our past is suddenly disliked.”_ North sounded heated, emotional at the President’s choice. Simon seemed close behind her, and expression of dismay painted on his face with an ever-present gracefulness that Markus would never capture. The subject changed yet Simon remained frustrated.

“That President. She already torments you in practically every meeting of a national threat. Now she’s acting like a spiteful child. It’s not your fault an android could lead better than her.” Simon’s voice was level but the flame within his eyes was flickering harder than they were in a distant revolution. Markus placed two strong arms around Simon’s waist, pulling him closer. Even though he was absolutely livid, he had to soothe his husband. After all, Hell hath no fury like a PL600 scorn.

“I’m not mad. And remember our promise?” Markus whispered to Simon.

“I do; don’t get mad at your problems if you aren’t.” Simon mumbled back, reaching behind his head to cup Markus’ cheek. They stayed silent for a moment, basking in each others company with the warm affections. They separated when the loud sound of an oven beeping pierced the air like a gunshot. Simon panicked about the overcooking of a chopped onion then left, allowing Markus to laugh at his husband’s passionate emotions for cooking. Still, he couldn’t help but think of North’s face, violent and ferocious.

  
Markus had dressed up formally for Simon. The latter had thought the dinner had a more casual dress code though he accidentally saw Markus straightening his tie in their shared bedroom. That was when he decided he would also bore his nicest clothes, which was a process that took much too long in Markus’ humble opinion. The revolutionary made himself useful while he waited by preparing the table and placing his and Simon’s food that had become the blond’s newest obsession on it. He had even made a candle the centerpiece. It was from the small store in Capitol Park that was run by a younger woman whose hair was constantly in a bun. She had befriended Simon and therefore Markus, giving them free candles on good days. Markus had gotten Simon’s favorite, Vanilla and Cinnamon. As the scent filled the air, Simon descended the stairs. Markus quickly went to the noise, mind racing with thoughts of his love.

“I’m glad it still fits me.” Simon teased, a pure white suit on display. Markus smiled, adoring the beauty that he so dearly missed. Markus waited for him to come down the staircase, and once he did, held his hand and led him to the dining room. They sat together, both awkwardly unsure how to start a conversation.

It was much easier when the two were younger. They had plenty to discuss; rights of androids, strategies for their next planned Cyberlife raid. All that remained in the aftermath was a domesticated life and nothing to talk about. However, Markus was known to be a breakneck thinker. He ate a piece of meat, his newest modules allowing him to taste the spices, then gave his glowing praise, a faint blue tint appearing on Simon’s face.

“It was nothing. If it wasn’t for the basil, the meat would’ve been dry.” The banter sparked once more, Simon chuckling at all of Markus’ jokes about how President Warren was no better than that Perkins they met and Markus constantly asking about Simon’s latest hobbies. At one point, Simon even coughed on some of his wine when Markus suggested that Simon become a chef professionally.

As the night continued and wine glasses were clinked together, they reminisced about their pasts. Simon talked of the household he was assigned to and how he learned to run faster than he was programmed to and had a gentle hand placed on his. Markus replied with his own stories of Carl, finding solace with the sudden truth that was being spoken between the two. These conversations were definitely too far apart. Suddenly, the doorbell rang throughout the house. Markus perked his head up, giving Simon a glance that the older model knew well. Simon replied that he wasn’t expecting anyone and that it was most likely the postman for a late delivery. The doorbell rang again, then again. As the noise started to become persistent, Leo called out.

“I’ll get it!” He shouted, stomping down the stairs. The couple heard the door open and the words of a quiet exchange. Leo entered the dining room, apologized for walking in on the foreplay, his words, not Markus’, and stated that someone needed to see them both. Markus got up first, floorboards creaking underneath his shoes as he walked towards the entrance door, Simon close behind him.

He stopped when he saw the two familiar models of a WR400 and a PJ500; North and Josh. He hadn’t contacted the two after he was elected as Detroit’s Legislature and assumed they had simply parted ways. But he certainly didn’t mind the sudden meeting from his friends. North spoke up first, eyes scanning Markus’ form;

“Hey guys. Mind if we come in?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a kudos, bookmark, and/or comment! Feel free to read my other works and thank you for doing so!


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